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WORDS

WORDS As many before me, I wrote I love you in the wet sand and also drew there a heart. As many before me, I saw how the
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EXILE HURTS

ELKE REHDER, 1942, EXIL, STEFAN ZWEIG EXILE HURTS Far away, freedom calls and here exile corrodes, threatens us, envelops us, penetrates us, and stabs as if it were
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SMALL REQUEST

SMALL REQUEST For R. May God give me a hero and a joyful lover and for the evenings, when none of them is there, at my window, a
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DIOGENES

DIOGENES goes with his lantern through the woods: Oak, where is your brother, the elk? goes through the village: Dog, where is your friend? through the city: People,
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THE WIND

THE WIND He collects leaves, puts them together, in red, blue, green paper written on sheets, pushpins stuck in them. Passing by, he bends over books. his lifelong
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STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN 10 MARCH2015 I climb the stairs of the metro Plaza Egaña. I like to go, looking straight at the sky. The floor dissolves the space.
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Small Boats

MIRROR The evening sky is helplessly hanging, a full-length mirror to the ground; Beyond the clouds, a faint, hardly visible star— Now seen, now lost, my image. ***
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